Losing yourself. It's almost like an out of body experience. It's as though I am hovering above my life, looking down on a stranger.

Who is that girl?

I don't recognize her. The bubbly, vivacious, grab-life-by-the-horns girl I was with on Friday is gone, replaced with a sad, self-pitying, dimmer version. I'm uncomfortable in my skin, wishing I could throw it off, like a shoe that is too tight.

It is amazing how one tiny moment has the power to transport you back in time to a memory you thought was gone forever.

I was 11 years old, at my weekly gymnastics class, performing a simple straddle jump off of a trampoline. Mid-jump I realized I was too far forward to stick the landing. I watched myself fall in slow motion, my instructor on the side-lines, unable to intercept. Instinct kicked in and I put my arms out to break my fall.

Harvard University. A place many students dream of attending, is where I found myself on a dreary weekend in March while attending the 2017 iV: Ivy League Vegan Conference. The prestige of my surroundings didn’t quite sink in until the students and speakers started talking. Eloquent deliveries of prepared speeches, full of robust vocabulary and grammar that I certainly didn’t use on a daily basis pervaded the atmosphere. Suddenly I opened my eyes and realized I wasn’t just on any college campus, I was in the presence of Ivy League phenomenons.

At first I was inspired, so eager to get out of my car after a 5.5 hour journey to learn from them, ready to fill my cup to the brim with their knowledge and expertise. But after the first day I realized that this may not have been the experience I had hoped for...

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